by Kennedy Fox
“Thank you,” I said softly.
Her large blue eyes seemed to take up her whole face as she breathed, “You truly are gifted. How do you know what to do? I mean, do you base it on what they looked like before, or do you come up with your own concept?”
I accepted my phone when she handed it back and slipped it back into my pocket.
“A lot of it depends on the owner. I’ve done both. If I’m basing it on the original, it’s as easy as doing my research, but if I’m creating a custom job, I’ll usually do a few sketches to give the client options.”
“Sketches? Do you have them here?” she asked.
“Yeah, I keep my book with me all the time. You never know when inspiration will strike.”
“Me, too!” Lily May said, her face practically blooming with her smile.
She was such a vision I found myself wishing I had my sketchbook right then, so I could capture her exactly as she looked at that moment.
“I mean, I don’t have a sketchbook, but I always carry a notebook… or five… with me in case I get inspiration for a song. I’m constantly jotting things down.”
“I didn’t realize you wrote your own songs.”
“Well, not all of them, but I do write the majority of them. I’ve even sold a few to other artists.”
“Wow, now I’m the one who’s impressed,” I said, then downed the contents of my glass.
Lily May shrugged and said, “I’ve always loved to write… even more than sing or play the guitar. Something about jotting down thoughts and ideas really helps my creative process. I’m just grateful people like what I have to say.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same when a client gets fired up over my concept. It’s a kind of satisfaction you can’t get from anything else.”
She nodded. “Because it comes from the heart. It’s not just doing a job; it’s creating something out of nothing and getting a positive reception. There’s nothing like it.”
I nodded in agreement, then surprised myself when I asked, “Would you like to see some of my sketches?”
I never showed my sketches to anyone but my clients. The finished product, of course, was great marketing, but never my rough sketches. Funnily enough, I found myself wanting to share that part of me with Lily May.
Maybe because I knew she’d get it.
“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, proving she did get it.
I shook my head. “You want to come up, or do you want me to go grab them?”
She looked unsure for a moment, then stood and grabbed her discarded glass.
“Let’s go up.”
“After you,” I said, picking up the Jameson and gesturing toward the open door. “I believe I have the room across from yours.”
Neither of us spoke as we went up the stairs and down the hall, the floorboards creaking as we moved in the dark.
When she got to my door, Lily May stopped and waited for me to open it. As I stepped up beside her to do just that, I caught the faintest whiff of something floral and wondered briefly if she’d put on perfume or if it was from her shampoo.
When the door swung open, I paused, waiting for her to enter ahead of me before following her inside. Not wanting her to think I had ill intentions, I left it slightly ajar and crossed to where I’d placed my sketchbook on the nightstand.
“My room is identical to this one, just flipped,” Lily May said as she looked around.
My duffel was thrown in the corner, and my clothes from earlier were tossed over the chair in the corner, but other than that, it looked the same as it had when I’d arrived. Slate walls, minimal furniture, and blue bedding.
Trading the bottle of Jameson for my sketchbook, I turned to offer it to Lily May.
I hadn’t realized she’d moved so close, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet my gaze.
With her big blue eyes on mine, her long blonde hair cascading down her back and that sweet smell surrounding her, I found myself mesmerized. And when her full, pouty lips parted at our sudden closeness, all thought of sketches and country songs fled my mind.
Suddenly, she was just a woman. An extremely attractive woman who was looking up at me with all the curiosity and desire I felt reflected back at me.
So, I did what any sane man would do… I kissed her.
Chapter Five
LILY MAY
His touch was tender at first. Tentative… searching. But when I sighed and fell fully into the kiss, my hands fisting at his sides, Johnny followed my lead and deepened the kiss.
One hand met the small of my back, pulling me tighter, while the other went to my neck and held. He smelled glorious, like leather and masculinity, and I felt his touch everywhere. It was as if I’d never been kissed before that moment, at least not like this.
This was definitely going in a song.
My heart was beating so hard against my chest I was sure he could hear it, although it may have been impossible over the sounds of my greedy moans.
Seriously, I couldn’t get enough. I’d ignited so quickly it was as if I’d been doused in gasoline and primed to light up with the first brush of his lips… the first sweep of his tongue. And the way his breath felt as he moved from my mouth to my throat, hot and eager, as if he wanted to consume me as much as I wanted to be consumed.
“Lily,” Johnny whispered against my neck.
“Mmm, that feels so good,” was my response as I tilted my head to give him better access.
He kissed his way back up, brushing his lips against mine one more time before resting his forehead against mine. We stood there, both struggling to catch our breath, my lips curved up in a smile as my pulse returned to normal.
“Wow,” I said with a soft laugh. “You’re pretty potent.”
I felt his chuckle roll through him and opened my eyes as I took a step back so I could look up into his handsome face.
“You’re gorgeous,” Johnny said, his grin slightly crooked.
“Thank you,” I said, pleased he thought so.
He brushed his thumb over my cheek before stepping back and breaking the trance I’d been caught in.
“Here’s the book,” he said, holding out a black bound sketchbook.
I took it reverently and walked toward the bed.
“May I?” I asked.
“Of course, make yourself comfortable.”
I sat on the edge, fighting the urge to just jump into the middle and snuggle in.
The image of me and Johnny together in the bed, hiding under the covers and continuing where that kiss left off had my cheeks warming. But when I flipped open the book and my gaze landed on the first page, all sexy thoughts flew from my head.
“Ah…” The sound that came out of me was somewhere between a squeak and a sigh.
I was awestruck.
Turning the pages, not speaking or squeaking, I simply scanned each image greedily as the lines and colors popped out and seared themselves on my brain.
“You’re an artist,” I managed after I’d gone through the entire book and started back at the beginning. “These are absolutely stunning.”
I tore my eyes from the page to look at Johnny when he didn’t respond and saw him standing stock-still where I’d left him, and this time, he was the one who looked sheepish. Even though I barely knew him, it wasn’t a word I would use to describe Johnny, but he obviously wasn’t used to accepting praise for his work.
“Do you draw other things?” I asked. “Other than cars?”
Johnny crossed to the accent chair in the corner and sat.
“No,” he replied. “I mean, I have… back in school and stuff, but now it’s just for projects. For work.”
“You’re extremely talented. Thanks for showing these to me.” He still looked uncomfortable, and I got it. Sharing your creations with others was like baring your soul and opening yourself up for judgment. “I’ll be right back.”
Hurrying out of his room, I crossed the hall to my room, where I grabbed my
notebook out of my bag and held it protectively against my chest as I walked back into his room.
Johnny had moved from the chair and was now standing by the window with a fresh drink in one hand and his open sketchbook in the other.
“I figured a little quid pro quo was in order,” I said softly as I crossed the room toward him.
I took a deep breath before unclutching my notebook and offering it to him.
He looked down at the book, then back at my face, his eyes searching.
“Your songs?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, my fingers tightening instinctively when Johnny put his book down and reached for mine.
His grin was quick and easy as I let it go.
“I’ll be gentle… promise,” he quipped.
“Gimme that,” I said, holding my hand out for his glass.
When he handed it to me, I took a long pull and tried to ignore the fact he was about to read my words.
It wasn’t like millions of people around the world hadn’t heard my songs, but that was after they’d been rewritten and polished a hundred times over. Johnny was reading my unfiltered thoughts.
The words I purged after a long day. My musings when I felt lost and alone. My hopes for the future.
Taking another swing, I enjoyed the burn this time as I turned my back on Johnny and my thoughts. I climbed up on the bed and scooted back until I was leaning against the headboard with my legs stretched out in front of me.
When the silence got to be too much, I grabbed the remote off the bedside table and turned on the TV, eager to distract myself from the fact Johnny was totally focused on what he was reading.
Chapter Six
JOHNNY
Little girls don’t just like unicorns and butterflies, teach them about reaching for the stars and men who tell lies.
You took my heart and refused to give it back… I’m coming for a repossession.
You fill me up with pretty words and expensive gifts, but what I’m really looking for a is a man who rides.
Page after page was filled with words and phrases. Sometimes they went together, and other times, it was obvious they were random notes from different instances. It was hard to believe the letters on the pages would turn into a song, but that was the beauty of creativity.
I glanced up, surprised to see Lily May seemingly engrossed in an episode of a home improvement show. I hadn’t even realized she turned on the TV, but I found I really liked the way she looked at home in my bed.
I closed the book and moved toward the bed, and when her head swung my way, I realized she hadn’t been paying attention to the TV at all.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied, her tone conveying her nerves.
I sat on the bed and swung my legs up before scooting back to rest my back next to hers.
“Thanks for letting me read it,” I said, offering her songbook to her.
“You’re welcome,” she replied.
When she didn’t say anything else, but instead gnawed on her lower lip and kept her eyes on the cover of her notebook, I realized she was more nervous than I realized.
“Hey,” I repeated softly, reaching out to run my thumb along her lower lip and save it from being eaten. “As adorable as you look worrying your lip, you have nothing to be worried about. You’re amazing, and I think you’re creative process is truly a work of art. To turn your observations and thoughts into songs that mean so much to so many people is incredible. I mean, what you write turns into the soundtrack of people’s lives, and that’s a gift few people have.”
Lily May blinked rapidly, and I saw her eyes filling, so I moved my hand to cup the back of her head and pulled her in for a chaste kiss.
I wasn’t trying to get anything started. I simply wanted to stop her tears.
When I pulled back and saw it had done the trick, I grinned down at her, and asked, “What are you watching?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted with a smile. “I was going crazy wondering what you were thinking about my book and needed a distraction.”
“Did it work?”
“No.”
I chuckled and settled back against the headboard as I picked up the remote.
After flicking through the channels, I stopped when Die Hard filled the screen.
“Here we go… a Christmas classic,” I said as I put the remote on the side table.
“It’s a good movie, but I wouldn’t call it a Christmas movie,” Lily May countered.
“Oh, you’re one of those people,” I joked.
“What people?” she asked.
“There are two kinds of people in this world… those who know Die Hard is a Christmas classic, and those who are wrong.”
Laughter bubbled out of her as she said, “Oh, really? And what would make you lump this Bruce Willis action film in with actual holiday classics like… It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street?”
I shifted so I could face her and lifted my fist as I began to tick off the reasons.
“It’s set on Christmas Eve. It has Christmas music on the soundtrack. It’s about a couple finding their way back to each other. It has the perfect villain. And, finally, it has a feel-good ending.”
“Okay,” Lily May said with a lift of her chin. “Those are some valid points. I guess I should give it a chance.”
“You’ve never seen it?” I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise.
“Nope, but it’s not too surprising since I haven’t had a lot of time to watch movies, like… ever. So most of the films people love and rave about, I’ve never seen.”
“Well, we’ll have to remedy that right now,” I said, picking up the remote and turning up the volume. “You’ve only missed the beginning, so I can catch you up. Sit back, relax, and prepare to be entertained.”
I gave her the CliffsNotes version of what she missed as she got under the covers and did as I asked, then we stopped talking and watched.
She laughed at all the right spots and was suitably impressed when Hans pretended to be a businessman trapped with them rather than the terrorist who caused everything. When it was over, I turned to her, and asked, “So what’s your verdict?”
“Definitely a Christmas movie.”
“That’s my girl,” I said, pausing when I noticed her eyes widen at my sentiment.
But, oddly enough, it felt true. Sure, I knew we’d barely met, but something about Lily May made me feel as if I’d known her forever. A kind of connection I’d never felt with anyone else.
“Looks like Die Hard 2 is up next. You game?” I asked, hoping she’d say yes.
I wasn’t ready for the night to end yet.
“Let’s do it,” Lily May replied gleefully, gifting me with her presence for at least a little while longer.
Chapter Seven
LILY MAY
The first thing that hit me when I began to wake was the smell.
It reminded me of how Johnny smelled when we kissed.
Johnny.
“Mmm,” I murmured with a smile as my eyes fluttered open.
The light in the room was bright, as if the curtains were open and it was broad daylight outside. But that couldn’t be right because I never slept in. There was always some sort of pressing thing for me to attend to.
Oh no, that’s right… Johnny. I wasn’t working because I was on vacation. But I wasn’t in Vale as planned, I was in Promise, and I’d spent the night getting to know Johnny, the very handsome and talented stranger.
I stretched slightly, then jumped when my foot came into contact with something solid. When I turned my head to see Johnny sleeping soundly next to me, I realized I’d fallen asleep during the third Die Hard movie, and he must have decided to let me stay.
My tummy fluttered with the realization that I’d spent the night sleeping next to Johnny, a sweetheart to be sure, but still a strange man who I hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. My father would kill me if he found out… Hell, my manager would kill me.
Still, as I took in his features, soft with sleep, I knew I could trust him, and I found Vale no longer held the same appeal it had yesterday morning.
I didn’t want to leave him. I wanted to get to know him better and see if the things I’d felt the night before were a fluke or the real deal. Heck, I wrote about love at first sight all the time, so why couldn’t it happen to me?
Realizing I needed to hit the restroom and wanting to do so before Johnny woke, I eased as quickly and quietly out of bed as I could, placing first one foot on the floor before twisting my hips to get the other one out of the blankets before sitting up and tiptoeing across the carpet.
I looked over my shoulder once I reached the door, and when I saw his eyes were still closed, I shut the door with a soft click.
After I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth with Johnny’s toothpaste and my finger, I used my hands to brush through my hair and tried to wipe the dark smudges from under my eyes.
Halfway presentable, I opened the door and started when I saw Johnny sitting up in bed looking at me.
“I figured since you were trying so hard to be quiet, I’d play possum until you were safely behind the door,” he said with what I now thought of as his signature crooked grin.
I let out a soft laugh and crossed to the window.
“It looks like the storm hit.”
Snow blanketed everything outside, and there were still flakes falling from the sky.
“Yeah, the winds were pretty good there for a while. I thought it might wake you up, but you were out,” he replied as he tossed the covers off him.
“Yeah, I slept really hard, which is unusual for me to do in a strange place. What time is it, anyway?” I asked, moving to pick up my phone, but finding the battery had died.
“Almost eleven,” Johnny replied. “What do you say we eat some breakfast and then have a snow day?”
“A snow day?”
“Yeah, go out and play in the snow. We could make a snowman, maybe go sledding… or ice skating if they have it.”
